Nick slowedhis horse to a walk now that he was well out of sight of the Sinclairs’ home. He wished desperately that he’d absconded with a bottle of Abel Sinclair’s rum to fortify him after the “Sinclair Assault,” of yesterday evening and his subsequent discussion with Abel. Had it not been so late, and had he somewhere else to go, Nick would have fled the Sinclair estate last night, but he found he was averse to sleeping out of doors under a cloud of mosquitos. He was quite used to women throwing themselves at him, after all he was heir to a dukedom, albeit a cursed one, but the Sinclair sisters put even the most determined spinsters in London to shame.
Nick stayed with the Sinclairs’, at Abel’s invitation, for nearly a week after the festival in Hamilton. During his stay, Agnes and Bertie each plead their case for marriage. Afternoon tea became a battleground of sorts as each twin fought for Nick’s affections. Agnes attempted to sit herself on Nick’s lap yesterday, under the guise of pouring him tea. This enraged Bertie so, that she flung a teacake at her sister's head. The two nearly came to fisticuffs over who would put jam on Nick's scone. Dinner became all out war. Bertie tried to feed Nick a bit of fish off her fork while Agnes and her roving foot caused Nick to push his chair back from the table to deter her.
Abel Sinclair was not amused.
After advising his sisters to retire early, Abel asked Nick to join him for a brandy in the study. He instructed the servants to keep the twins away from the study door.
Abel sat, his pale grey eyes watery and exhausted with the antics of his sisters. He regarded Nick with one bushy gray brow raised. “Well?”
Nick thanked Abel for his hospitality but informed the man, in the most polite way possible, that both Agnes and Bertie would stay unmarried. At least to Nick.
Abel nodded, giving Nick a beleaguered look. “If you’ll forgive my honesty, Mr. Shepherd, I did not think you would suit either Agnes nor Bertie, though they both feel otherwise.” He’d pursed his lips, hesitating as if he wasn’t sure he should continue. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to give you a bit of advice. You’d best consider leaving Hamilton, for your own safety, of course.”
“I shall heed your warning in regards to your sisters.” Nick stood, bowing slightly. “I will retire and leave you on the morrow.” The eye-patch itched furiously, and he longed to be free of the bit of leather. He’d been afraid to take it off, even at night, lest one of the sisters burst in on him as he slept.
“I wasn’t speaking of my sisters, Mr. Shepherd.” Abel gave Nick a level look, his meaning clear. “I’ve warned you. Take my advice or not.”
Nick thought the advice a bit late though he was sure Abel meant well.
After the festival in Hamilton, Nick arrived at the Governor’s mansion to find his room neatly put in order, just not the order Nick left it in. The Governor, or rather someone in Corbett’s employ, had been very careful. A less observant man wouldn't have noticed a shirt folded,not quite right. Or Nick's traveling trunk, moved just a bit, the lid not shut tightly.
He’d taken one look around the room and suspected he’d worn out his welcome. Unsure where to go, Nick took what he needed and decided to accept the hospitality of Abel Sinclair. The Corbetts did not inquire about Nick's whereabouts, but they likely knew he was at the Sinclairs’.
George Corbett would come looking for Nick soon.
ThePegasus, a ship from the Dunbars’ fleet, was due to arrive in the next week, but Nick’s sixth sense told him not to wait. After several discrete inquiries, Nick found theArtemis, bound for England, on the morning tide. He planned to board as soon as he confronted William Manning, which he meant to do tonight.
I cannot bed her in anger or revenge.
Nick would honor his grandfather’s wishes. He would ask Manning for his confession, possibly even threaten the man’s life in order to receive the truth of his identity. Jem need never know. Would she wonder what became of Nick Shepherd?
“I’ve finally become an honorable man. How horrified London would be.” Nick wiped the sweat off his brow and nudged his horse into a trot.
Jem.
He would leave her to live her life, though he wished nothing more than to stay near her. Touch her. Bury himself in her softness. His grandfather would need to be content with the knowledge of the traitors, if not the traitors themselves. While it pained Nick to think of Manning living out his days peacefully in Bermuda, he did not think the man had many days left to him. George Corbett, however, Nick would take care of later.
Jem will marry Augustus Corbett. She’ll share his bed and bear his children. Lady Corbett will destroy Jem’s glorious, reckless nature. Augustus will never appreciate her or how unique she is. He will never know her as I do.
A mosquito landed on his arm and he swatted at it. “I hate this fucking island.” Nick wiped the sweat running down his face with his sleeve. Even the stench of London would be most welcome, as horrible as the smell was, because it wouldnotbe Bermuda.Not Bermuda, where there is a constant reminder of what I cannot have.
He stopped his horse angrily. “I am tired,” he tugged off his coat, nearly tearing the sleeves “of this bloody heat.” He balled up the garment, shoving it into his saddlebag as a vision of Jem lying in Augie Corbett’s arms filled his mind. Pummeling the coat, he finally managed to shove the whole of it away. Satisfied, he looked up from his abused coat and glanced at the rutted road ahead of him.
A small, slight figure wearing an overly large hat popped into view, then just as quickly disappeared again.
Jem.
Nick took a deep breath, mindful of what heshoulddo and not caring.
“I am not as honorable as all that.” He nudged his horse forward, his resolve to leave the island without seeing her again fading into nothingness.
Where was she going?
A path, barely discernible through the thickness of the trees led into a marshy area. Patches of quicksand dotted either side of the trail, and Nick carefully picked his way through the thick weeds and dense vegetation. Gnats swirled in clumps before him and mosquitos buzzed his ears. The light dimmed and Nick nearly turned back, sure he’d never find her.
A flash of white darted through the trees and a horse whinnied. The sound came from his left.
Determined now, Nick dismounted to walk his horse along the narrow trail. He slowed and matched his path to Jem’s, suspecting that if he deviated from her footsteps, he and his mount would find themselves sucked into a bed of quicksand.
